The One Where I'm Dying Inside
by Jana
Summary: Monica loses it over losing Chandler.
1. The One Where I'm Dying Inside

**__**

The One Where I'm Dying Inside

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--It took me by surprise, when I saw him standing there. Casually leaning against the counter at the coffeehouse, he had placed his order with Gunther, then turned around to take in his surroundings. That's when he saw me.

He turned fully to face me, a hurt smile accompanying sad eyes. I approached him carefully, but kept a slight distance. Still, he was close enough to touch, and we were breathing the same air. My heart lurched in my chest.

"How- How have you been?" he asked, stammering uncomfortably.

I shrugged, trying for a smile as I said the first words that came to mind. "Just fine."

That of course, was a lie. I was far from 'fine'. Seeing his face again, his sharp blue eyes that seemed to bore into my very soul, it caused a new ache within me, and brought up an old familiar ache I had tried desperately to squelch. But I couldn't tell him that. 

I couldn't tell him that what I really meant to say, is that I'm dying inside. That I miss him more each day, that there's not a night I haven't cried. I can't tell him the truth… 'I'm still in love with you.'

--It was six months ago. Six months since he walked out the door, that painful night etched into my memory…

***

--"I'm sorry," he apologized as he hugged me at my waist while I sat on the couch, his head in my lap. "I tried. I wanted this to work," he explained, "But I just can't do it."

"What can't you do?" I asked, burning tears falling down my cheeks.

"Move forward," he replied, pulling away and wiping my tears. "It's not that I don't love you. It's not that I don't WANT to move forward, I just… can't."

"I don't understand," the tears came faster, "What's changed? We were doing so well."

He stood, tears wetting his face, and he sighed as he looked away from me. "I'm sorry," he whispered, then walked out the door, no real explanation ever given.

***

--We said if it ever came to that, that we wouldn't let it affect our friendship, or our friendships with the others. But it **was** affected. 

We never see him anymore. After he moved out, cause he didn't want to uproot Rachel who had been living with Joey, he found his own place. An hour away by train. The others went there a handful of times, I went there twice. After that, he just sorta got, fazed out. It wasn't intentional, and it didn't happen overnight, but it did happen.

For a while, I thought he might change his mind. Might come to his senses after a few hours, or days, but as the days turned to weeks, I knew we were over. I've never cried so much in my entire life.

My heart ached without him, like there was a huge hole missing in his absence. I needed him like air to breathe, and I don't think I really realized how much I truly loved him until he was gone.

Joey calls him, quite a bit actually, but whenever I ask him how Chandler is doing, he always says 'Just fine'. I think he's trying to protect me.

--Just fine. I wish I could say the same. Truth is, I don't think I ever will be 'just fine' again. Sure, I'll heal, hopefully, and move on… possibly. But, he took a part of me with him when he left. All within one surreal moment, I lost my best friend and the love of my life. How can I ever expect to be 'just fine'? I can't.

--All of the last six months has been spent trying to become a functioning human being again. Now, he's here in front of me. God, how do I survive this?

--"Chandler?" Gunther broke the uncomfortable silence, "Your coffee."

He took it off the counter and nodded his head at Gunther, then turned back to face me.

"I was in the neighborhood," he offered as he gestured to his to-go cup. I nodded. "So, how's everyone?"

"Fine," I replied. "You talk to Joey sometimes, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Sometimes. I miss him."

'Just him?' my brain asked, but the words to form that question never left my mouth.

"How's work?"

"Fine," I answered, fidgeting nervously.

I wanted him to take me into his arms, hold me, kiss me. Love me. "How's… your work?" I asked, making small talk. Anything to keep him there for a few moments longer.

It would make it harder, and I knew that. Just being in his presence, I would be crying for weeks, and I knew it. Still, I couldn't walk away from him just yet.

"Fine," he replied. "All the lines point up, so Doug is pleased." 

I grinned awkwardly at his attempt at humor, his smile bringing back a flood of memories that caused a lump to form in my throat.

'Do you miss me? Are you as miserable without me as I am without you? Do you know how much I've died since you've been gone?'

I wanted to ask him these things and more, but was too afraid. Of rejection. Of getting hurt again, worse than before. Would that even be possible?

"So," he brought me back to my harsh reality with one simple word. "Guess I should be going now."

I nodded, "Ok. Sure."

"It was good seeing you again," he told me softly, and I had to force myself not to cry.

"You too," I replied shakily.

--He turned to leave, and the echo of my words, and lack of words, cut into me like a knife. So deep, I could almost feel the physical pain. I fought back the tears, trying to cling to a shred of pride and dignity as I watched him walk away. When he was out of sight, I lost it.

I dropped to the tattered orange couch, my face in my hands… I couldn't control the tears, or sobs. Should I have told him? Would it have made a difference?

He viewed me as strong. They all did, but what I really wanted to tell him, was that I'm really not that strong. No matter how hard I try, I'm just barely holding on. To life. To sanity.

How did I become this? Someone who can't even function anymore, the mere site of him, or mention of his name starting the ache and tears all over again. Will I ever get over him?

The river of tears splashed into my hands, slipping through my fingers as I gasped lightly for breath. The start of a headache was twitching at my temples, a common occurrence when losing it over losing Chandler.

"Monica?"

The voice familiar, I looked up to see, through blurred vision, the owner…

****

TO BE CONTINUED…

What I Really Meant To Say

It took me by surprise  
When I saw you standing there,  
Close enough to touch,  
And breathing the same air.  
You asked me how I'd been,  
I guess that's when I smiled and said, "Just fine."  
But, baby, I was lying.  
  
'Cause what I really meant to say  
Is I'm dying here inside,  
And I miss you more each day -   
There's not a night I haven't cried.  
And, baby, here's the truth:  
I'm still in love with you.  
That's what I really meant to say.  
  
And as you walked away,  
The echo of my words  
Cut just like a knife,  
Cut so deep it hurt.  
I fought back the tears,  
I held on to my pride and watched you go.  
I wonder if you'll ever know  
  
What I really meant to say  
Is I'm dying here inside,  
And I miss you more each day -   
There's not a night I haven't cried.  
And, baby, here's the truth:  
I'm still in love with you.  
That's what I really meant to say.  
  
What I really meant to say  
Is I'm really not that strong.  
No matter how I try,  
I'm still holding on.  
And here's the honest truth:  
I'm still in love with you.  
That's what I really meant to say.  
What I really meant to say.


	2. The One Where I Wonder

**__**

The One Where I Wonder

Continued from: 'The One Where I'm Dying Inside'

By: Jana~

*****

--When I was younger, I believed dreams came true. Now, lately, I've been beginning to wonder. My dreams certainly haven't come true.

__

And whose fault is that?

I know it's my fault. It's just, I feel like I have this little black rain cloud, following me everywhere, raining on my constantly. Even on perfectly beautiful sunny days.

__

That's because you're miserable. And what do you do? You just walk out the door. You just left her there. How could you do that?

I don't know. I don't know how I found the strength to do that. 

__

Strength? Who are you kidding? You're a coward, is what you are. A coward for leaving her in the first place. A coward for not telling her how you really feel.

It wouldn't have done any good. I had my chance and I blew it. All I have now are memories of the good times we shared, knowing I will probably never see them again.

__

You're pathetic.

I know that. You think I don't know that? 

__

Why did you even go there?

I don't know. I wasn't expecting to see her there.

__

Oh, right. She lives less than a hundred paces away from the coffeehouse. Of course you were expecting to see her.

Ok, part of me was hoping to see her, but, part of me was hoping I wouldn't have to face her.

__

That's cause you're a coward. When did it go down hill for you? When she said she was 'just fine'?

I don't know, maybe.

__

It was a lie, you know that, right?

No, I don't know that.

__

Yes you do. I am you, remember? I know what you're thinking at all times. You saw it in her eyes. She's as devastated without you as you are without her. 

I might be wrong. What if I'm wrong? Joey hasn't said anything about her wanting me back. What if she isn't missing me? What if she's moved on? If I tell her how I feel, I will humiliate myself.

__

It's worth the risk to find out. **She** is worth the risk.

When I was younger, I used to think that I could win. At life. At love. You know, find happiness? Now, I wonder if I ever will.

__

That's because you run away from it. It's been within your reach… you ran away.

Just seeing her, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

__

I know. I'm you, remember?

God, does this mean I'm schizophrenic? Because I'm having a conversation with myself?

__

No. If you start to talk to yourself out loud, then answer yourself out loud, THEN you may need to worry.

God, I just kept thinking about how we used to walk hand in hand out of the coffeehouse… stroll over to Central Park. I was happy then. That person was happy. I've been searching for that person for the last six months, but I've changed.

__

I know.

I keep thinking and hoping that the next new day will find the old me. The me that was happy. Now, I wonder, without Monica, is that even possible?

__

No.

I don't know what to do-- What do I do now?

__

You know what to do. You need to go back. Go back and talk to Monica.

But, what if she turns me down? Or laughs in my face?

__

Do you honestly think you could be any more miserable than you already are?

No. I doubt it.

__

Well, then, there you go. Go back to Central Perk and talk to her.

--My brain had a point, but my heart was still afraid. I just stood staring at the subway entrance, knowing if I didn't hurry, I would miss the next train. But if I took the train home now…

__

If you get on that train and go home, you know you will never go back.

I looked at the subway steps… a life without Monica. I looked back the way I came… a life with Monica, or possibly, rejection and humiliation? Would she take me back? That was the question. What was the answer?

I numbly started down the stairs when something hit me, knocking the wind out of me. It wasn't a physical blow, it was an emotional blow, and it was then that I knew. Whatever else happened, I couldn't live the rest of my life without at least trying. I had to tell her.

I have to tell her how I feel.

__

Right.

Even if she laughs in my face, I have to tell her I still love her.

__

Right.

I climbed the few steps I had descended, then stood by the railing, unmoving.

__

If you put one foot in front of the other, you will get there much faster.

I know that. I just-- I don't know--

__

Just do it already!

"Shut up!"

I didn't mean to say that out loud, and some sweet old lady jumped a foot at my outburst.

"Sorry, ma'am, not you," I apologized, then walked away, back towards the coffeehouse. Back towards Monica. Back towards my destiny.

--I found myself in a full run. Running back to her. Back to admit everything. That I never should have left. That I never stopped loving her. That I want to be with her. I want to be committed to her.

That last revelation floored me, and I stopped running as I gave that thought deserved consideration. A commitment. Was I ready for that? Was I ready for forever? Marriage? Kids?

The bottom line was, I couldn't live without her. I tried to the last six months and it almost killed me. Whatever it was that made me leave her in the first place, it was gone, making way for new fears, but with one discerning difference… I wanted to face my new fears WITH Monica, whereas before, I was afraid OF Monica.

Not afraid of her, per se, just afraid of losing her. Now, my fears are that of living a life without her.

__

That's the same thing.

No, it's not. Before, I was afraid she would leave me. I was afraid of alienating her. Now, I'm afraid of living a life without her. I need her in my life. If I didn't know that before, I know that now.

__

So, go tell her. You're here. Look.

I looked up and saw the coffeehouse across the street. I was so busy arguing with myself, I didn't even realize how close I was till I was upon it.

I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, then started into the street and for Central Perk's door. My brain was so focused, my body seemed almost detached, except for my heart, which was racing wildly. I reached for the door and swung it open, taking a step inside. A brief glance around was all it took to locate her, and I smiled as I took a step towards her, but then, I stopped. She wasn't alone…

****

TO BE CONTINUED…

****

"I Wonder"  
  
When I was younger I believed, that dreams came true.  
Now I wonder.  
Cause I've seen much more dark skies, than blue.  
Now I wonder.  
  
I keep on praying for a blue sky, I keep on searching through the rain.  
I keep on thinking of the good times, will they ever come again?  
Now I wonder.  
Now I wonder.  
  
I keep on praying for a blue sky, I keep on searching through the rain.  
I keep on thinking of the good times, will they ever come again?  
Now I wonder.  
Now I wonder.  
  
When I was younger I believed, that I could win.  
Now I wonder.  
There was a time when you and I, walked hand & hand.  
Now I wonder.  
  
I keep on searching for the old me, I keep on thinking I can change.  
I keep on hoping for a new day, will I ever feel the same?  
Now I wonder.  
Oh I wonder.  
Now I wonder.


	3. The One With The Bethesda Fountain

**__**

The One With The Bethesda Fountain

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"Monica?"

The voice familiar, I looked up to see, through blurred vision, the owner.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to stop my sobs long enough to speak. "Chandler was just here," I managed to say.

Ross immediately wrapped his arms around me as he sat beside me. "What did he want? What did he say?"

"He was just in the neighborhood. Just getting a cup of coffee," I replied, my tears wetting his shirt. He didn't mind.

"What did he say?" Ross asked again, firmly.

"Nothing," my voice quivered slightly, "Just small talk, really."

"So, then, why are you all hysterical?"

I groaned and pulled away from his comfort. "I'm not hysterical, Ross. I'm fine, I'm just--"

"Oh, please, Monica, you're not fine," he scolded. "You have been like this ever since he left. Six months is long enough, alright? You need to get over him."

"Hey, yeah, there's an idea!" I shot back sarcastically, wiping at my tears, "Why didn't I think of that?!" My brother… I love him, but God can he be dense. If it were that easy, wouldn't it stand to reason that I would've done it by now? Or, maybe he thinks I like being a basket case.

"Look, I know it's not as easy as that, but six months, Monica! Six months!" 

He sighed, and I could tell he was exasperated with me.

"Look, Ross, I know you're just trying to be a good big brother here, but, just, stop it."

"Stop it?" he asked, "Stop being your big brother?"

I rolled my eyes… he takes things too literally at times. "You know what I mean, Ross. Just, stop trying to fix me."

"From where I'm sitting, it looks like you need fixing."

"Maybe I do," I told him, "But, you can't fix me. Only one person can fix me."

"A psychiatrist?" he offered.

"No," I shot back. "Chandler."

"But you know that's not going to happen, right?" He spoke to me like he would Ben. Like I was a child, and it made me want to smack him.

"I don't know what I know anymore," I muttered, "Except, that I still love him." I looked up and into my brother's concerned eyes, "I've tried, but I can't get over him."

"No, Monica, you haven't tried. You've moped around feeling sorry for yourself. Dwelling on the past. Moreso than when you and Richard broke up."

"I miss him, Ross," I admitted sadly, the tears starting all over again.

He scowled as if confused. "Richard?"

"No, Ross. Chandler," I clarified. "I miss Chandler."

He gathered me into his arms again in an attempt to comfort me, but all I really wanted was to be in Chandler's arms. When I saw him standing there, for a fleeting moment I thought, just maybe. Maybe he was coming back to say the words I so badly wanted to hear, ever since he left: 'I made a mistake, and I still love you.'

"He's never coming back, is he?" I asked my brother as I cried into his chest."

"No, Mon, he's not," was his solemn reply, and the tone of his voice made me cry even harder.

Suddenly, I felt him jerk and pull back, and I looked into his face for an explanation as to why. Intently, he was looking past me, his expression hard to read, and I turned to follow his stare.

"Chandler." I heard my brother say his name, I saw him standing near the door, but I still thought it was a figment of my imagination.

"Hello, Ross," Chandler almost whispered, then his eyes moved to me.

I felt instantly ill, the sight of him again too powerful for my delicate frame of mind and emotions.

I was vaguely aware that Ross was looking back and forth between the two of us, but neither Chandler nor I looked away from each other. Our eyes locked.

"You're crying," Chandler noticed as he approached, and he seemed to be struggling with something to say, but no words came out.

I just nodded. To hell with being strong. To hell with pride and dignity. I had to tell him. Tell him I still love him. Because try as I might, I can't get him out of my soul. 

But wait. Why did he come back?

"Monica?" Ross' voice broke through my haze, and I turned finally to look at him. "Should I--?" He gestured towards the door, his unfinished question clear… he wanted to know if he should stay or go.

I nodded. "I'll be fine," I told him, hoping I sounded convincing, and he nodded before standing.

"Alright. I'll see'ya later then." He walked up to Chandler, but only stopped for a moment, giving him an up-nod before walking out the door.

Chandler looked at me for several seconds before finally speaking. "Can we… go to the park maybe and talk?"

I nodded as I stood, my legs feeling like rubber. "Alright."

--We walked in total silence, and even though it was an uncomfortable silence, it was as comfortable as I'd been within the last six months. We hit the park, and began down a path I had walked a million times before.

When we were still together, we walked this path a million times after getting coffee at the coffeehouse. It was our special alone time, without the gang with us. We would leave our work or whatever else behind and it would just be our time, to hold hands, hold each other close, people watch as the sun set.

After he left me, I traveled down this very path almost every day, and the familiar scenery brought back bittersweet memories for me. I cried so many times as I headed for our favorite spot by the Bethesda Fountain, my tears getting lost in the cold water as I stared at the angel perched high atop the fountain and made wish after wish for him to come back to me.

Now he was here, and I don't know why. I don't dare assume he wants me back. If he doesn't, I don't think I could recover. Maybe one of the gang told him I was losing it. Joey talks to him every week or so, maybe he told Chandler I was mental and to come talk to me or something.

God, please don't let that be it. I don't think I could take it if I saw pity in his eyes, directed at me. I mean, I **am** pitiful, but I don't think I could handle it if he pitied me.

"Nice day today," he broke the silence, "Weather-wise."

"Yeah," I agreed, knowing I probably should've elaborated or something, but, I didn't know what to say. I knew what I wanted but was scared to say, but I didn't know how to make small talk.

His pace slowed when the fountain came into view, and I looked at him, almost tripping over my own feet as I watched his expression for some sign of what he was thinking… or feeling.

"The last time I was here was with you. Six months ago. Two days before… I left."

I nodded. "I come here almost every day."

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me with haunting eyes, "Why?"

I shrugged, then started walking towards the fountain again. God, why didn't I tell him?! It was the perfect opening! Because it was our spot, I should've said. Because, I thought, I hoped, that if I came here every day and wished upon a coin, then tossed it in, that maybe, you'd come back to me.

But I didn't say anything. I just shrugged and walked away from him, towards the fountain. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. When I reached the fountain's edge, I turned to see him walking towards me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast. 

I sat on the cold stone ledge, and he joined me seconds later, his body slightly to one side as he watched the water flow, and stared up at the angel as if trying to decide something.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked softly, unsure of my own voice, unsure if I really wanted to have the conversation that was about to take place.

He nodded, flicking at the water briefly before wiping his hand on his pants and facing me.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you…"

****

TO BE CONTINUED…


	4. The One Where I Spill My Guts

**__**

The One Where I Spill My Guts

Chapter four

Continued from: 'T.O.W. The Bethesda Fountain'

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--I didn't announce my presence at first, I just watched the scene before me. Monica's back was to me, but by the look on Ross' face, something wasn't right. 

God, I haven't seen Ross in what, three/four months?

__

At least four months. You broke his sister's heart, what did you expect?

Ross spotted me, and he seemed almost startled to see me, which was confusing to me. Then Monica turned around, and her face carried a similar expression.

Ross spoke my name, but it wasn't exactly a greeting, it was more like an acknowledgement of my presence.

"Hello, Ross," I said, but I was parched from running, so it came out strained.

My eyes left Ross and moved to Monica, noticing immediately, her red puffy eyes.

She's been crying.

__

I told you she was missing you.

Maybe that's not it. Maybe Ross just gave her bad news.

Could you **be** any denser?

She was staring right at me, and our eyes locked. She looked so sad, I wanted to gather her in my arms and hold her.

I took a step towards her, "You're crying." The words left my mouth before I had a chance to figure out what else to say, so I just stood there, waiting for her reaction.

She nodded, but didn't elaborate, even though it looked to me like she had something more to say.

I don't know what to say next. What do I say?

"Monica?" Ross asked, and I glanced at him out of my peripheral vision. "Should I--?"

"I'll be fine," Monica said with a nod, and Ross nodded in return.

"Alright. I'll see'ya later then." He stood and approached me, and for a brief moment, I thought he wanted to say something to me. But he didn't say anything. He just gave me an up-nod and left.

I focused on Monica again, her expression pained and concerned and- I just wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

What do I say to her?

__

Just tell her how you feel.

I can't just blurt it out. Maybe if we go for a walk first, to the park or something. Maybe then I won't feel so awkward.

__

Sure. Or maybe you're just looking to stall for time.

I ignored my inner voice. "Can we… go to the park maybe and talk?" I asked her, nervous as hell.

She seemed to struggle with her balance as she stood. "Alright."

--We walked out the door of the coffeehouse, on our way towards the park, and it instantly reminded me of when we were still dating. I had to physically stop myself from taking her hand in mine.

--It was unbearably silent as we entered the park, and I felt like I needed to say something, but I wasn't ready to spill my guts to her just yet, and I didn't know if small talk was permissible under the circumstances.

__

Permissible? Since when do you need permission to talk? Just say something.

Yeah, but, what? What do I say? Nice weather? Look, that guy is peeing on that tree? Hope we don't get mugged?

__

Out of those choices? I'd go with 'nice weather'.

I'll look lame.

__

You couldn't look any more lame than you already do. Just **say** **something**!

"Nice day. Weather wise."

"Yeah," she agreed, her tone of voice distant.

Yeah, that was lame. Should've gone with the guy peeing.

**__**

Gone with him?

Even my inner voice is sarcastic.

Then, I saw it. The Bethesda Fountain. Seeing it brought back a million memories, and I started to slow down. 

It was then that I realized, "The last time I was here was with you. Six months ago. Two days before… I left."

She nodded. "I come here almost every day."

I stopped dead in my tracks, and she stopped when I did, turning to look at me. "Why?" I asked.

She shrugged, then walked away, and I stared after her, my curiosity peaked. She hugged herself as she headed for the fountain, and I struggled to convince myself that I could indeed, do this.

I can do this. I can tell her I'm still in love with her.

__

So, do it already.

When she turned to sit on the fountain's edge, I started to walk again, heading for the spot beside her, my hands in my pockets, my eyes avoiding hers as I quickly gave thought to what I was going to say to her.

I sat beside her, turning slightly to look up at the angel that sat atop the fountain, guarding over her visitors.

Her voice broke the silence. "You wanted to talk to me?"

I nodded, flicking at the water, then I wiped my hand on my pants before turning to face her, "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you."

This is it. I can do this.

__

That's yet to be seen.

"Chandler? Are you ok?" Monica asked me, and I smiled in response to her simple question.

Was I ok? I was about to find out if I would ever be ok again.

"I'm not sure yet," I replied, my vague answer causing those cute little worry lines to pop out on her forehead. "The answer to that question kind of depends on you."

"Me?"

I nodded, then took a deep breath.

__

Just say it.

"Monica, I'm still in love with you." She gasped, and I rushed on before I lost my nerve. "I've never stopped loving you, and I was-- I was stupid to leave. I think I was afraid of losing you, so it was like, beat you to the punch, ya'know?"

She just stared at me, and I could see tears forming in her eyes, threatening to fall.

"I know- I know, that's beyond stupid, but, I got scared. I think I was scared of losing you."

"You were scared of losing me, so, you left me?"

She sounds upset. Oh, God, this was a mistake.

__

Of course she's upset. What did you expect?

"Look, I know you're probably really upset with me, and I don't blame you. I'm really upset with me, too. But, these last six months, I've been miserable without you." 

I could feel the tears coming, and part of me told me to fight them. Try to hold them back. Be a man. But another part of me told me not to care. It was too late anyway. I could feel them fall to my cheeks.

"I don't think I can live without you, Mon. And if you can forgive me, and if you can find it in your heart to take me back, it would make me the happiest man in all of New York. Hell, the world!" 

I placed my hand over hers, and my heart raced faster.

"And if you take me back," I continued, "I will try my hardest each and every day to make you the happiest woman in all the world."

I looked at her intently, expectantly, waiting for her to say something. Anything. God, why wasn't she saying anything.

"Monica, please, say something."

"I have been wishing and praying, each and every day, since the day you left, for you to say those words to me. I would sit on this very spot," she poked the ledge of the fountain we were sitting on firmly, "And wish upon coin after coin, then toss them in, hoping that in doing so, you would come back to me."

She started to cry, and she pulled her hand away from mine to wipe the tears. My heart ached to gather her in my arms, comfort her, wipe her tears gently from her cheeks, but I held back. I didn't want to presume too much. I didn't want to upset her further.

"And now you're here, saying these words," she continued after a moment, "And, well, I just have one thing to say…"

****

TO BE CONTINUED…


	5. The One Where We Got Soaking Wet

**__**

The One Where We Got Soaking Wet

Chapter five

Continued from: 'TOW I Spill My Guts'

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked softly, unsure of my own voice, unsure if I really wanted to have the conversation that was about to take place.

He nodded, flicking at the water briefly before wiping his hand on his pants and facing me.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you," he said, but then he just sat there. Silent.

I watched him carefully, trying to get some idea of what was about to be said, but I couldn't read him. To me, it seemed like something was wrong, and ever so briefly, my mind questioned his health.

Maybe he's sick. Or dying. I inwardly shook that thought from my brain. No. He's fine… right?

"Chandler? Are you ok?" I asked, nervously awaiting his reply.

He smiled. Why is he smiling?

"I'm not sure yet," he replied. "The answer to that question kind of depends on you."

Me?

"Me?" What is that supposed to mean?

He nodded, then took a deep breath, and unwittingly, I did too.

"Monica, I'm still in love with you."

I couldn't stop myself from gasping.

"I've never stopped loving you, and I was-- I was stupid to leave. I think I was afraid of losing you, so it was like, beat you to the punch, ya'know?"

He didn't really just say that, did he? It was a dream, right? For six months I've waited-- Oh, great. Here comes the water works. I'm really, honestly surprised I haven't become seriously dehydrated these past six months.

"I know- I know, that's beyond stupid, but, I got scared. I think I was scared of losing you."

Is it just me, or did that make no sense?

"You were scared of losing me, so, you left me?" I asked.

"Look, I know you're probably really upset with me, and I don't blame you. I'm really upset with me, too. But, these last six months, I've been miserable without you."

I've been miserable without you, too. The words rattled around in my head, but never came out of my mouth. When the tears rolled down his cheeks, it was like someone took my heart and squeezed it. After all these months of being desperate for his comfort, and now I find myself wanting to comfort him. How's that for irony?

"I don't think I can live without you, Mon. And if you can forgive me, and if you can find it in your heart to take me back, it would make me the happiest man in all of New York. Hell, the world!"

I was rendered speechless, and my eyes darted about our surroundings as his words sank in. He wanted to try again. When he placed his hand over mine, it felt like my heart was going to burst through my chest, it was racing so fast.

"And if you take me back," he continued, "I will try my hardest each and every day to make you the happiest woman in all the world."

He was awaiting my answer. I could tell he was, but I didn't know exactly what to say. I wanted to say 'yes'. Oh, God, how I wanted to say 'yes', but, what if in another six months he decided he couldn't 'move forward' again? If he broke up with me again, I know I wouldn't survive it, emotionally.

But, then again, this is what I have been praying for. Wishing for. Everyday. For the past six months.

"Monica, please, say something."

His request brought me out of my reverie.

"I have been wishing and praying," I told him, "Each and every day, since the day you left, for you to say those words to me. I would sit on this very spot, and wish upon coin after coin, then toss them in, hoping that in doing so, you would come back to me."

The tears came faster, and I pulled my hand away from his in an attempt to wipe them from my face.

God, I must look a mess.

"And now you're here, saying these words," I continued, "And, well, I just have one thing to say."

I looked into his eyes, his brows furrowed as he waited for me to finish, and I lost it. Too many emotions hit me all at once, and I just couldn't hold on any longer.

My tears started to flow like a river, and I tried to breathe to control the sobs, but that just caused me to whimper.

I looked and sounded ridiculous, and I fought to gain some composure so I could at least find my voice. That's when he held his arms out to me.

I fell into his embrace, burying my face in his chest as he stroked my hair. He started to rock me back and forth, like how one might when comforting a small child, and neither of us realized until it was too late…

He lost his balance on the ledge, and he struggled to regain it, but his efforts failed. We hit the shallow water with a splash, and I yelped in surprise.

Chandler laughed as he stood, helping me to stand, and I smiled as we hopped out of the fountain.

"Sorry," he apologized, for the falling in or the laughing, I wasn't sure. "Are you ok?"

I nodded as I flung my wet hair out of my face, looking down at my drenched clothes.

"We need to get out of these wet clothes," I told him, swiping downward at his suit jacket in an attempt to brush away some of the water.

He took my hand and stopped me, a smile on his face. "I'm an hour away by train…"

"Come to my place, then. I'm sure Joey will let you borrow some sweats or something."

"Are you sure?" he asked, still holding my hand, and I knew he wasn't asking in reference to Joey and the sweats.

I nodded, and I felt him tighten his grip as he nodded in response.

My hand in his, we headed for the exit of the park closest to my apartment. It wasn't exactly a cold evening, but with me being so completely soaked, the cool breeze that swished through made me shiver.

"My jacket is wet, but you can wear it," he offered, "If you want."

I didn't answer, but he didn't really give me time to, either. He pulled his hand from mine and shrugged out of his suit jacket, then draped it across my shoulders.

I smiled as a thank you, and he reached for my hand again as we started walking. The wet jacket didn't really stop the cold breeze from chilling me, but I wasn't about to tell him that. 

I liked wearing his jacket. Even with the dip in the fountain, it still smelled like him. Like a combination of his soap and after-shave. I love the way he smells, and how chivalrous he can be. He used to do that all the time, drape his jacket over my shoulders as we'd walk to and from the Bethesda Fountain. My comfort was always important to him.

--We arrived at my apartment, not having said more than a few casual sentences as we walked hand in hand.

I handed him his jacket, then knocked on Joey's door. No answer.

"So much for that," Chandler chuckled, gesturing to his wet clothes.

"How quickly we forget," I said as I entered my apartment, returning a second later with Joey and Rachel's key. I held up the key before unlocking their door.

I stepped in, Chandler right behind me, then headed for Joey's room. I knocked first, just in case, then let myself into his room in search of something suitable for Chandler to wear.

"It sure hasn't changed much," he called out to me from the livingroom.

"Yeah," I agreed, finding a pair of sweat pants and a Knicks shirt that, even though on the floor, seemed and smelled clean.

We walked across the hall to my apartment, then I excused myself as I went into my room to change. I whipped off my wet clothes, quickly finding something to wear that I knew looked good on me… for Chandler's sake.

I left my room, quickly looking around for Chandler. My heart sank when I saw that he wasn't there.

Did he leave? I tried not to think the worst, but it was hard not to.

After several moments of panic, I called out to him…

****

TO BE CONTINUED…


	6. The One With The Door To The Past

**__**

The One With The Door To The Past

Continued from: 'TOW We Got Soaking Wet'

By: Jana~

*****~*****

"And now you're here, saying these words," she muttered almost sadly, "And, well, I just have one thing to say."

She looked at me, and I felt myself hold my breath as I waited for her to finish. I don't know exactly what happened, but without warning, she burst into tears.

God, I hate seeing her cry. And she was whimpering as she sobbed. I couldn't stop myself. I had to at least offer, so I held my arms out to her, offering her comfort.

She took it, and I was glad she did, falling into my arms and burying her face in my chest. It felt so natural, to have her in my arms, and I stroked her hair as I rocked with her, offering her comfort the only way I knew how at that moment.

I was so caught up in the feel of her in my arms again, I didn't realize I was losing my balance. By the time I did realize it, struggling to regain it was futile. I tried to break away from Monica, so that she didn't fall with me, but I didn't release her fast enough, and we both hit the water with a splash.

She kinda squealed, surprised, and I couldn't help but chuckle. I got to my feet as fast as I could, then helped her to her feet. I saw a tiny smile cross her face as we hopped out, and I knew she was none the worse for wear.

"Sorry," I apologized, certain she wasn't thrilled by getting dumped into the fountain, "Are you ok?"

She flipped her wet hair out of her face and nodded. "We need to get out of these wet clothes," she added, looking down at her wet self before swiping at my clothes.

She's such a neat freak, I reminded myself with a smile, then stopped her hand with mine. "I'm an hour away by train," I reminded her, hoping she would invite me back to her place.

"Come to my place, then," she offered, and I inwardly grinned at my tiny victory. "I'm sure Joey will let you borrow some sweats or something."

"Are you sure?" I asked, hoping she realized I wasn't asking in reference to Joey and his clothes. I gave her hand a small squeeze, hoping she understood the context of the question.

She just nodded, so I nodded in response.

Our hands were still intertwined as we headed for the exit of the park, heading for Monica's apartment. When I felt her shiver, I realized she was wearing a very short sleeved shirt, and therefore must be cold. Instinctively, I offered her my suit jacket.

"My jacket is wet, but you can wear it. If you want."

I didn't even wait for her answer. I just immediately took it off and draped it over her shoulders. It reminded me of old times, when I used to do that for her on chilly nights, and she smiled so sweetly at me, it made my heart skip a beat.

--When we arrived at her apartment, Monica handed me back my wet jacket, then immediately knocked on Joey's door. I briefly wondered what he would say when he saw me standing there, but the situation never presented itself. He wasn't home.

"So much for that," I chuckled as I tried to hide my frustration, gesturing to my wet clothes. I did NOT want to go home to change. I wanted to stay with Monica.

"How quickly we forget," she said with a smile, then walked into her unlocked apartment.

She really needs to lock her apartment. She returned a second later with a key, holding it up for me to see before keying in to Joey's apartment.

I followed her in, watching as she at first knocked, then let herself into Joey's bedroom. I looked around my old apartment, noticing that even though Rachel lived there, not much had changed.

"It sure hasn't changed much," I called out to her, stating it more for my own benefit than hers.

"Yeah," I heard her agree from the other room, appearing a few moments later with some of Joey's clothes.

--"I'm just gonna, go change," she said, pointing at her bedroom door, and I gestured for her to go ahead, watching as she disappeared into the room we once shared as a couple.

When she shut the door, I took a moment to look around the apartment. Everything was pretty much as I remembered it, with just a few differences that caught my eye right away. The drapes in the bay window had been changed, and the kitchen shelves were organized differently.

I shivered, the goosebumps reminding me that I was still in wet clothes, so I snapped out of my daze and headed for the bathroom. I wasn't in there very long when I heard her bedroom door open.

As quick as I could, I finished stripping out of my drenched work clothes, setting then neatly on the edge of the tub, cause I knew Monica would appreciate that, then I grabbed for the sweat pants. I had just slipped one leg in when I heard Monica call my name.

"Chandler?"

Her voice sounded funny to me, and I yanked on the pants before abruptly opening the bathroom door. "Just changing," I told her, and she smiled, with a slight blush following.

It was then that I realized… I was shirtless. I thought, maybe my half-nakedness was making her uncomfortable, so I turned around and pulled on the borrowed t-shirt.

When I turned back around, she was out of my line of vision, but a second later I heard her in the kitchen. I turned the corner and watched as she set her teakettle on the stove.

"I thought, maybe some tea…" she trailed off, and I nodded.

"Sounds good."

There was an awkwardness between us, and I knew it was because she never got to finish what she wanted to say from back at the park. I wondered, should I say something? Remind her that she never finished? Or wait for her to say something?

Almost as quickly as I thought it, she spoke up.

"Before? At the park?"

I nodded.

"I was going to say, before we got wet…"

She trailed off again, and I could tell she was struggling with how to start.

"Maybe we should, sit down?" I suggested, and she nodded and gestured towards the couch.

We both sat, her first, me after, but then she inched away from me.

"I have missed you so much, Chandler," she began, and my heart soared, "But…"

But. My heart sank. There was a but. Oh, God, she's going to turn me down, isn't she?

__

If she does, you'll just have to fight for her.

How? How do I do that?

__

Prove your love. Prove your willingness to commit.

"If we get back together," she continued, "I'm gonna need you to give one hundred percent. No bailing cause you're scared," she added. "If you're scared, we work on it together."

She wasn't saying no, she was saying yes!

She's saying yes, right?

__

Sounds like it.

"Does… that mean…?" I asked, needing clarification.

She nodded, then smiled. "I want to try again," she whispered. "For us."

I inched closer, and this time, she inched towards me, instead of away from me. I meant to go slow, but excitement got the better of me, and before I knew what was happening, I had gathered her into my arms and was kissing her with a passion that had been bottled up for way too long.

God, how I've missed her. Her lips. Her passion. Her touch.

I felt like I was drowning, but I didn't want to be saved. I just wanted to continue to drown in her. To taste her and touch her. And make love to her.

Am I moving too fast?

__

She doesn't seem to mind.

I don't want to blow this with her by moving too fast.

__

Then, slow down.

I don't know if I can.

I left her lips, nuzzling in to kiss her neck. The sounds she was making… I was on fire.

__

Ask her now, before this goes any further and you can't stop.

Just a few more minutes.

__

Who are you kidding? You're already at critical. Ask her now.

"Monica? Is this too much too fast?"

"Probably," she breathed, "But I don't care."

Blood coursed through me at an unbelievable speed, and I was grateful at that moment that Joey's sweat pants were a bit on the baggy side.

I inched my hands inside her tight fitting shirt, her body warming my cold hands, anxious about my destination, when all of the sudden…

"Oh, I'm sorry. Apparently, I've opened the door to the past!"

****

TO BE CONTINUED…

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize that last line was from 'TOW Monica's Thunder', but it works really well there! :-D


	7. The One With The Whirlwind Interruption

**__**

The One With The Whirlwind Interruption

Continued from: 'TOW The Door To The Past'

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--I put the teakettle on the stove, thinking tea would help warm us up a little, although seeing him shirtless did that a bit already.

I shook those thoughts from my head. I needed to focus. I needed to be sure things were going to work with us before I let my emotions carry me too far.

Ok, here goes…

"Before?" I started, "At the park?" He nodded. "I was going to say, before we got wet…"

He nodded again, and stared at me, and I started to lose my nerve. What if I tell him where I stand, and he doesn't want the added stipulations? I could lose him again. I don't think I can handle losing him again.

But, can I really afford to NOT tell him how I feel? If I don't tell him, and we get back together, as time goes on… I could lose him later on just as easily. But, later will be harder. Better if I know now.

"Maybe we should, sit down?" he asked, dragging my thoughts away from my worry.

I nodded, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch. Gentlemanly, he waited for me to sit, then sat beside me, but a little closer than I was comfortable with. I inched away, needing to keep my head about me if I was ever going to finish what I was trying to say, knowing the closer I was to him, the harder it would be to do that.

"I have missed you so much, Chandler," I forced my voice to say the words, "But…"

My heart was in my throat. This could be a new beginning, or the absolute end, and knowing that made it difficult for me to continue.

You have to do this, I reminded myself, taking a deep breath. You have to do this.

"If we get back together," I told him, "I'm gonna need you to give one hundred percent. No bailing cause you're scared," I added. "If you're scared, we work on it together."

He seemed to be contemplating what I said, trying to understand what I meant, but before I could open my mouth to clarify it for him, he spoke up.

"Does… that mean…?"

I nodded, smiling at the boyish look on his face. "I want to try again," I whispered. "For us."

He inched towards me, his lips on mine in the blink of an eye, and he as quickly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his body.

His lips were so soft and perfect, I could've sat there kissing him all night long. He's a good kisser, I've thought so, from the moment my lips met his back in London, the night before Ross' wedding to Emily, but I didn't realize how much I missed his kisses till they were gone.

Things were heating up, I could feel it, and I was beyond certain he could too. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped as his lips moved to nip at my neck… I was on fire.

I could hear his rapid breathing in my ear, and I knew where the night was headed.

"Monica? Is this too much too fast?" he asked in a whisper, and I swallowed in an attempt to wet my dry throat before answering.

"Probably," I replied, my voice cracked, "But I don't care."

His lips were on mine again, the kiss passionate, and I soon felt his hands inch under my tight fitting top. His cold hands felt strangely pleasurable as they came in contact with my warm skin, and I grew more excited as I anticipated his next move.

We were ripped out of the moment by the sudden exclamation…

"Oh, I'm sorry. Apparently, I've opened the door to the past!"

Chandler jumped away from me, as if burned, and we both looked over at our blond-headed interrupter.

"Hi, Pheebs," he muttered sheepishly, turning at least two shades of red. "How are you?"

Phoebe scoffed. "Oh, look at you! All shy and trying to be formal!" 

She marched over to him and he stood in response to her approach, smiling as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"I haven't seen you in months!" she exclaimed, pulling back, her hands on his shoulders. "What have you been up to?" she asked, "Besides playing tonsil tennis with Monica."

"Work mostly. You?"

"Well, I have this new massage client, and he is so funny! The other day, during his massage, he--" She stopped abruptly, then shook her head. "Sorry. We can catch up later." She looked over at me and smiled. "I'm sure you guys want to get back to what I, moments before, interrupted, am I right?"

"We-- We were just--" Chandler stammered, looking for the right words to say, and Phoebe chuckled.

"Hey, really, it's fine. K? I always knew you'd come back!"

I scowled at her admission as she started for the door.

"Phoebe? You what?" How--?"

"I'm psychic, remember?" she reminded, an assured smile on her face.

"You never told me--"

"I told you not to give up hope." She made a gesture that seemed to say she had proven her point with that statement.

I wasn't about to argue with her, so I just smiled as she turned to leave.

"Chandler. Coffeehouse, tomorrow? So we can catch up?"

"Sure," he agreed with a smile, and she did a little hop before walking out the door.

"Well, that went… well," he stammered, turning to look at me.

"Were you expecting it to **not**?"

He shrugged, "I guess I kinda figured that-- that everyone would maybe, well, hate me."

"Why?"

"For… hurting you," he admitted with hesitance, and I smiled.

"Some were upset with you. Some more than others, but no one hates you."

He nodded. "I'm guessing Ross was the most upset. Him being your brother and all."

I looked down at my lap as I nodded. "It's cause I'm his little sister."

"Yeah…"

The awkwardness was back, and I was at a loss for what to say next. Would it always be like this?

"Is it always going to be like this, do you think?" I asked. "Awkward and such?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think so. A few days maybe? A week? But, it'll slowly dissipate."

His words put me at ease. Not to mention his smile. He held out his arms to me and I snuggled in to his warm chest as we together sat back on the couch, holding each other as we got comfortable.

The passionate moment was gone with Phoebe's whirlwind appearance, but what took its place was nice. Familiarity and tender affection. Sitting in each other's embrace, the TV off, no one in the room but us, enjoying each other's company in virtual silence.

"How do we do this?" I asked after several minutes of silence. "I mean, do we start over? Pick up where we left off? What do we--? How do we--?"

He kissed the top of my head, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was smiling at my nervous babblings.

"Well, I was thinking," he began, "I am an hour away by train, and I really don't want to be that far away from you. So, why don't I move in to Rachel's old room? It's still a guestroom, right?"

I grew near giddy at his suggestion. He would be as close as he could be, physically, without actually being in my bed. It would be easier to work on the relationship that way.

I nodded. "Yeah, actually, it is."

"So, does that sound good?" he asked. "I don't want to rush you."

"I think it sounds perfect. Can you get out of your lease?"

"I didn't sign one," he informed. "I'm just there month to month."

This caused me to smile. It might not have been the reason, but the fact that he didn't sign a lease, it led me to believe that somehow, in some way, he knew he would be coming back to me.

"When can you move in?" I asked.

"This weekend?" he suggested in the form of a question. "Joey would probably help, do you think Ross might as well?"

"I think he'd better," I joked, and Chandler chuckled.

I felt him pull me tighter to him, and I sighed contentedly. It felt so good to have him holding me again. Better than in my dreams.

If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

"Why didn't Rachel move back in with you?" he asked suddenly.

"We talked about it a few times," I explained. "She figured you would eventually come back, and she didn't want to move all her stuff, just to be moving it right back again. Plus, she likes living with Joey. And she knew he wouldn't be able to afford the place on his own as well as I could afford **this** place on **my** own."

"Makes sense," he muttered softly. "Seems like everyone knew I would eventually be back but Ross."

"Don't take it too personally, Chandler. He's my big brother, and therefore overly protective of me. Besides," I added, "Ross is, well, **Ross**."

****

TO BE CONTINUED…


	8. The One With Everyone's Point Of View

**__**

The One With Everyone's Point Of View

Continued from: TOW The Whirlwind Interruption

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"Ross, come away from the window."

I heard her request, but I was far from ready to fill it. This was my sister, in the arms of the man that just months ago, hurt her. Causing her more pain than I had ever seen in her before.

I was about ready to call her just minutes earlier, to stop what was about to happen between them, but before I could even pick the phone up off its cradle, Phoebe entered Monica's apartment.

That stopped everything dead in its tracks. She was only there for a minute, and she hugged Chandler, which caused me to be curious about what was being said, but her presence stopped their kissing, and that was the bottom line.

"She's an adult, Ross. She can make her own decisions."

"Can she?" I spat out, spinning around, leaving my vigil over my sister's activities.

"You don't think she can?"

"I think her mind is clouded at the moment, ok? I just don't want to see her hurt again."

"And neither do I. None of us do. But, Ross, she loves him. And he loves her. Deep down. Beneath the fear."

I shook my head and turned back towards the window. "I swear," I muttered, "If he hurts her **this** time…"

"He won't."

"How do you know that?" I asked, questioning her assuredness.

"Because," Rachel offered, "He's had time alone to realize just how much he loves her. And needs her. He's back for good. You'll see."

I wasn't so sure I believed that, but I wanted to. For Monica's sake. I nodded and turned away from the window, giving my sister the privacy she didn't know was being infringed upon.

"I hope you're right," I mumbled, sitting beside Rachel as I dropped to the couch.

"I am," she reiterated, "Now, here. Have an egg roll."

*****

--He invited me over for Chinese take-out, but the friendly dinner turned itself into something of a soap opera.

He asked me over before he saw him again. Chandler. The name so familiar, yet somehow straining to say or hear.

When I showed up at Ross' door, he ushered me in quickly and, at break-net speed, filled me in on what he knew.

Chandler ran into Monica at the coffeehouse. After small talk, he left, which is when Ross entered into the situation.

He'd just walked in to get a cup of coffee, but when he saw Monica in tears, and he questioned her as to why… that was the breaking point for him, I think.

It ate away at him that she was in so much pain, as the weeks turned to months since Chandler left. We were all hurting at seeing her in such pain, but Ross took it the worst. He wanted to fix her pain, like most men, but he couldn't.

That, I think, is why he can't see this from Chandler's point of view. He just got scared. We all wondered when it was going to happen, but when month after month passed and he didn't freak out, we all just started to assume that he wouldn't.

When he did freak and leave, we thought he would snap out of it quickly and return to her. When he didn't, he just got… fazed out. With the exception of a handful of times, we never even really saw him after he left. Joey was really the only one to keep in contact with him, and he would always update us on how he was doing.

Now he was back, as I knew he would be eventually. Phoebe and I have talked about it numerous times. We all know how much Chandler loves Monica, it was just his messed up childhood and fear of commitment that caused him to run away.

They belong together. That's how I can be so sure that he won't hurt her this time. He didn't want to hurt her last time. He just wasn't thinking straight. Time was all he needed, and time was what the past six months has been about.

He's back for good this time. I know he is.

"I hope you're right," Ross mumbled, plopping down beside me.

"I am," I told him as I held up a to-go box, "Now, here. Have an egg roll."

*****

--"Of course I'll help, man!" Joey exclaimed excitedly into the phone, his smile wider than ever.

When Chandler left, Joey was heartbroken. Not just because of the pain Monica was in, and the constant sadness in her eyes, but because Chandler moved an hour away by train. That made it hard to see him and spend time with him like before.

Joey was really the only one to keep in contact with him after he left. He called pretty regularly, and whenever he had auditions near Chandler's work, he would always stop by for lunch or an after work drink.

Even though his sister's pain was hard on Ross, I think Joey took it the worst, out of all of us. He's so childlike sometimes. A quality I love about him.

"Great news!" he announced as he hung up the phone. "Chandler is moving back in with Monica! He needs my help this weekend moving his stuff!"

"So quickly?" I asked, being careful not to squash Joey's enthusiasm.

"He's moving in to the guestroom," he stated, his smile never faltering, "So they can work on their relationship and stuff!"

It seems too soon to me, but I can also understand the motivation. It's not like they're strangers moving in together, they have a deep-seeded history. Even in lives before this one.

"What's the matter?" he asked, interrupting my silent thoughts.

He could sense my worry. And people say he's not very bright. He has a wisdom I think few would understand.

"Nothing," I replied, "Just seems a little fast. To be moving in together."

"They just wanna be close to one-another, Pheebs. What's so wrong about that?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, Joseph. Just worried about them getting hurt again."

"You think he's gonna bail again?" he asked with childlike innocence and concern.

"No, I don't think that," I rushed to put his mind at ease. "Just thinking too much," I smiled.

"Thinking too much," he scoffed, "That's something I would **never** do!"

I forced myself not to laugh at the irony of his statement.

*****~*****

--Chandler was kneeling down, taping up one of the last boxes in his near-empty apartment. He seems happier now than he has in over six months, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, and it made me smile wider.

"Nothing," I said as I handed him a black marking pen to mark the box with. "Just thinking."

"I thought I smelled something burning."

He always makes jokes about stuff like that. Sarcastic comments that imply I'm stupid. Sometimes they bug me, but not today. I'm just too happy about getting my best friend back.

Sure, he never left the state, but I was used to having him either living with me, or across the hall from me. An hour away by train was just too far away.

"I'm just glad you're moving back in with Monica," I told him as he stood. "I missed you."

"I saw you almost every week, Joe," he reminded me.

"I know," I shrugged, "But it wasn't the same."

--I don't think he understands just how upset I was when he moved. Ross is great and all, and so are the girls, but they're not Chandler. 

Ross is more interested in dinosaur stuff and foreign films with subtitles, and Phoebe and Rachel are more interested in girl stuff. Like makeup and clothes and smelly candles or incense. And chick-flicks with no nudity, or at least no female nudity.

And Monica… well, she's been so upset since Chandler left, she's not interested in doing much of anything besides sleeping on her couch and crying. 

I couldn't help her. I didn't know how, and every time I would see her she would ask me how he was doing, cause she knew I called him a lot. I never knew what to say.

I knew he was missing her. I could tell. He never actually said the words, but I could tell. The first time he asked me how she was doing, was probably the most uncomfortable I have ever been, ever. I didn't know what to say, so I told him she was just fine. That became my answer to both of them after that.

If Chandler asked how Monica was doing… 'Just fine.'

If Monica asked how Chandler was doing… 'Just fine.'

I felt like I was in the middle, almost like my parents were getting divorced and I had to split up my time between them. It was awful.

But now, Chandler's coming home. And Monica is actually smiling. And everyone is so happy. Well, everyone except Ross. He's pretty upset with Chandler for making Monica so sad. I don't blame him really. If he had done that to my sister, I would be pretty pissed. But, I also know he didn't do it on purpose.

It's almost like he has a sickness. Phoebe said it's like a phobia. Like, the fear of spiders or closets. Chandler's phobia is the fear of commitment. Phoebe says you can get over phobias and learn to live with them, and I think that's what Chandler is going to do now.

And, so, if it's a sickness, how can you stay mad at the guy? It would be like getting mad at him for having cancer or something. It's not like he **chose** to be this way. I think Ross will come around. At least, I hope he comes around. It would be nice to have things back the way they were.

--"I know," Chandler smiled, "I missed you, too." 

He held his arms out, offering me a hug. I've never been a big hugger of guys. Kinda seems unmanly, in a way, but it never bothered me with Chandler. It's like hugging a brother.

*****

--"I think Ross hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He just needs time to get over himself."

I'm not so sure I believe that. "Monica forgave me, why can't he?"

"Monica forgave you cause she's in love with you. Ross isn't."

"Thank God."

Rachel sighed, "Always with the jokes."

"Sorry," I apologized. "I joke when I'm nervous."

"Yeah, well, tell me something I don't know."

"Ok, Joey has tried on your underwear before."

Rachel looked shocked, and it took everything in my power **not** to start laughing.

"What?! Are you-- Are you serious!?"

Before I could even reply, she walked off in search of Joey.

--"Hey," Monica's voice called out, and I immediately turned to embrace her.

"Hey."

"So, almost done?"

"Yep. Just a few trash bags and these two boxes go," I pointed to the corner of the room, "And then I'm done."

I held her for several minutes, noticing that even when sweaty, she smells amazing.

"We're doing the right thing," she asked me in a whisper, taking me by surprise, "Right?"

Was she having second thoughts?

"I think so. Are you--?"

"I'm just scared," she said as she pulled away. "Ross thinks this is a big mistake. He thinks if you leave me again, it'll destroy me."

"What do **you** think?"

"I think he's right. If you leave me again, I don't think I'll be able to recover."

"No, what I meant was," I clarified, "Do you think I'll leave you again?"

"I don't want to think you will. But, I can't help but be a little worried."

God, I hate myself for hurting her like I did. I am determined, to do whatever it takes, to make it up to her.

I reached out to hold her, and she let me. "I promise you, Monica, the reasons for leaving six months ago no longer exist. I'm not afraid of being in love anymore."

"I'm glad you've grown," she said with quiet sadness, "But it's going to take a while for me to trust you again."

"I know," I said into her hair as I rested my head atop hers. "I know I messed up."

"It's in the past," she told me firmly. "Now, we work towards a future."

I'm amazed at how lucky I am to have her in my life. That she's forgiven me, and that I now actually have a shot at happily ever after.

I pulled back, looking at the apartment that signifies the temporary insanity I suffered six months ago, then turn my eyes to look at my future wife.

"I think- No, I **know** I would die inside without you," I told her truthfully.

It looked to me like she was about to cry, but no tears fell. 

Eventually, she nodded and replied. "I **know** I would die inside without you," she admitted. "I know because I almost did."

I don't know how to respond to that, except to hold her, but she inched back, keeping eye contact, not allowing me to console her or myself.

***

--I didn't want to hurt him, but I couldn't stop myself from saying it. He hurt me, and a part of me died the day he left. I know he knows this, and I know he's sorry, but I said it again anyway.

If this is going to work, I have to let the past be the past. But, sometimes it's hard. I sometimes think I want to scream at him, but if I do, will he leave again?

"Monica?"

His voice is questioning me, but I don't have an answer for him. Still, I have to say something, right? He just tried to hold me, but I backed away. He'll want to know why.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I-- I just--"

"What?"

I am terrified to say what I'm about to say, but know I have to. I have to say it.

"Please don't hate me," I began, "But, part of me-- Part of me… hates you for what you put me through."

He hung his head, nodding slightly. I know he's sorry. Why can't I just let it go? Why do I keep having this nagging **thing** in the back of my mind?

"You have every right to," he finally replies, "But, is it a hate you can get over? Cause, if it's not--"

"I want to work past this. It's just going to take time." My heart is literally climbing into my throat, irritating me. "Can you understand that?"

He nodded, and I sighed with relief.

"You just tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

What do I want? I want to love him without being afraid. I want to wake up in the morning without the sense of dread that today will be the day that he'll decide to leave again.

"I just want you promise me that you won't do what you did six months ago."

"I have promised you that." He sighed, running his hands through his hair; a sign he was frustrated. "I know you're skeptical, and you have every right to be, but if we're gonna make this work, you need to have at least some trust in me."

Before I could reply, he continued.

"I know I have to earn your trust again, but, we have to start somewhere, right? You have to have at least some faith in me."

I nodded. "I know."

"So," he said as he looked down at his shoes, "Do you?"

Do I? "Do I what?"

"Have at least a little faith in me."

That was the question. That's what it all comes down to. Without faith and trust, there is nothing to build a relationship on.

I could see the panic start to show in his expression, and it was then that I realized…

"Yes, Chandler. I do."

He was visibly relieved by my words, and quickly gathered me into his arms. My wanting to scream at him, my anger, it faded as I felt his arms hold me like I was his very reason for living.

I closed my eyes, allowing a brief dream to cross my mind. Chandler and I, up at the altar, our friends and family watching with wide smiles as we said 'I do' to one another, sealing our lives together forever.

That dream used to make me sad, because I never thought I would ever see it come true. Now, it makes me happy.

****

THE END


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